Das Tier in Mir
by Three Faces Of Eve
Summary: Kali has always been a bit nutters, and she's starting to fear it's getting a bit worse. But when Remus Lupin replaces the incompetent Lockheart, it starts to show that's she might be a bit more crazy that she originally thought. By a lot...


**A/N: I don't know how far I'm going to get with this. I think it could be a lot of fun, but I just keep starting fics and not going very far with them. We'll see. **

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**Chapter 1: Hungry Like the Wolf**

_Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends._

"Kali! Just give it a rest, alright? Bloody hell, I don't need you watching over me _all_ the time!"

My name is Kali Cybele Fortescue- quite a mouthful, yeah? - And my little cousin is currently screaming at me in the middle of the hallway on the train to Hogwarts.

I understand why he's doing this, really. He's upset; lately everything has been piling up on him, and I think he needs someone to take out his anger on. I get it, really. I've been in practically the same position.

But really? Right now, with people crowded around us, trying to get to their compartments? Staring at us, their cruel eyes taking in my humiliation with the utmost pleasure, payback for all the ridicule I dished out to these… sheep.

Well, the sheep have teeth. And they love watching the Slytherin Bitch torn down. Especially when it's done by one of her pups.

My face is a cold, unfeeling mask, as my cousin throws a temper tantrum at me, calling me all sorts of awful names. Nothing I've haven't heard before.

A large boy pushes his way past the throngs of people, baring his teeth at a fifth year Hufflepuff. The little chit's eyes widen to the size of saucers, and I think I hear her squeal in fright. Good. I hope the little piggy pissed herself.

When he reaches us, the boy leans his giant, calloused hands on my cousin's shoulders. "Nott. Give it a rest." His tone leaves no room for argument.

My tiny cousin glares at him, but his shoulders slack and he gathers his stuff up, not even looking at me. All I want to do is reach my hand out to him, to comfort him, but he shuffles away, ignoring my pleading eyes. I can't even call out to him, not in front of the greedy masses. They're still watching, silent, hoping to watch me break apart.

The boy- no, he's a man now, gives me a scornful look. "Get it together, Fortescue," he whispers harshly.

He's right. I look at the floor, blinking away the tears, and when I look up again, an unfeeling mask is in place. I shove past a few mocking Gryffindors, my sneer in place and my head held high. There isn't much I can do, really. The story will be all around school soon… Just, hopefully, something else will happen to make them forget about me. At least until I squash them beneath my foot.

Dirty, stupid sheep.

"Thanks, Marcus," I grind out. Saying that is actually quite hard for me; Marcus Flint and I have always had a tumultuous relationship. He shouldn't even be back here, but he didn't graduate with his class last year.

We've never been friends. We fight a lot, actually, but we've always been protective of each other. Just like any good Slytherins. Last year (and I suppose this year as well) he was Alpha Male of the Slytherin House, his bullheadedness beating out other contestants with better names. We'd never really dated, but somehow we ended up physically intimate… quite a few times, actually. We were using each other, yeah. But it was mutual, and we needed it. He needed a good fuck with a good name… I just needed to be close to anyone, feel _something_.

Plus, you know, he was pretty talented in the sac.

Marcus shoves me into a compartment and kisses me hard on the mouth. And I kiss back. His now straight teeth (when did that happen?) nip at my bottom lip, and I open up for him, my tongue lashing out to duel with his.

"Hey, Kali! I knew you'd be in… here…" one of my best friends, Tayla Jayhawk, opens the compartment door and gawks at Marcus and I.

Marcus groans. "Sodding hell, Jayhawk. Get the fuck out of here." He nuzzles my neck, but I push him away.

"No, Marcus. Thanks for getting me out of that situation back there, but I think you should go." I am always the diplomat. Really.

He glares at me for a moment, testing my will. I just look back at him blankly, waiting patiently. Finally, with a muttered "slag" he throws up his arms in defeat and leaves the compartment, banging the door behind him rudely.

Merlin, the year hasn't even started yet, and I can already tell it's going to tear me apart.

I sit down next to the window, staring at the people still milling around, their over-sentimental emotions palpable.

My mother had only been able to bring us to the station before she had been called away in a business endeavor. My aunt, Theodore's mother, had refused to wave us off, preferring to hide in her room and drown her sorrows in Muggle healing inventions- Haagen Daas ice cream and cheesy Muggle Soap Operas.

Of course, the pureblood fanatic refuses to admit this aloud, too ashamed that her wallowing has resulted in. And her son suffers from her selfish depression. He needs his mother- especially at a time like this.

Tayla is talking at me about her summer in the Caribbean. Her already tan skin is stained dark from sun, causing her green eyes to sparkle even more than usual; and natural light brown highlights bring even more attention to her shiny, perfect brunette head. She's too pretty for her own good: men, boys, grandfathers, even perfectly straight women follow her around in the hope that her beautiful full lips will turn up in a smile just for them. Very few are graced with her attention. Yeah, I'm envious. But over the years our friendship has developed, and my jealousy has become superficial, and my admiration for my headstrong friend has grown.

I'm not even pretending to listen, but she takes no notice. She's saving what she just discovered for when the rest of our friends get here, waiting to rub it in my face for when she has an audience. Bitch. I love her.

Suddenly, the door to our compartment slams open and three boys strut in, a tired looking girl following them.

Speak of the devils.

Tayla and I grin at the disheveled twins, Edgar and Edwin Richards, as they plop down next to me. Morgan Laius, impeccably dressed as always, seats himself next to Tayla, and Lanie Campe purposefully squeezes in between them, getting an ornery look from Morgan.

The twins are lovely in their masculinity. Light skinned, light haired, brown-eyed, freakishly tall and athletic. Girls drool over them, wishing they could get one- maybe even both- of them. And the boys are happy to oblige.

While they look quite similar, identical actually, with strong noses and jaws, they are not one entity. Edgar prefers his button down shirts and jeans, while Edwin likes black shirts and tight pants. Edgar is smarter, more devious; he makes the plans, makes them perfect so that Edwin can carry them out. (They like to pull pranks, often at war with a couple of fifth year Gryffindor twins). They're both pretty laidback and prefer to make jokes instead of worry, but sometimes I see this intense look in their eyes; sorrow and fury and relief all mixed in one. As if they're watching the end of the world.

On the other side of the spectrum is Morgan. He has dark brown hair, straight, parted on the side and hanging in his lovely blue eyes. He is long and lean, with dancing fingers and lips, cheekbones high and defined. His very presence screams 'sophistication' and 'class.' Morgan is cynically intelligent, but he also is a closet romantic. We spend many nights in his bed, curtain closed, talking about boys.

My only other female friend is Lanie. She's delightfully blonde, tiny, and adorable. This, of course, causes guys to fall over in an attempt to protect her. And of course, sweetheart that she is, she thanks them with a kiss on the cheek, even though anyone with half a brain knows that she can take care of herself. None of us are quite sure why Lanie is in Slytherin (though we are quite grateful.) She comes from a long line of purebloods, yes, but they're mostly made up of Ravenclaws. Sure, Ravenclaw, filled with snotty better-than-thou bitches, would have eaten her alive, but it doesn't make sense to avoid that by putting her in a house full of vicious snakes… Yet, she's survived; thrived even.

This is my pack. We're all equals here, balancing each other out. I don't know what I'd do without my friends.

"So, my dearest friends... You'll never guess what I just caught Kali doing!"

Then again…

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End file.
